


Matt/Foggy Porn GIFathon

by DarkestTimelines



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Body Hair, Body Worship, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Slut, Cock Worship, Collars, Coming Untouched, Consensual Somnophilia, Crossdressing, Cuckolding, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Feminization, Humiliation, Inspired by GIFs, Inspired by Photography, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Public Sex, Scents & Smells, Slut Shaming, Small Penis, Somnophilia, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-03-29 21:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19027855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkestTimelines/pseuds/DarkestTimelines
Summary: A series of short Matt/Foggy scenes, with accompanying NSFW images, that got stuck in my head while perusing the Ghosts of Tumblr Past.





	1. Matt/Foggy; Soft Dom/sub

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I'm going to write all of the unrepentant Matt/Foggy porn I've always wanted, because I can and no one can stop me.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

 

The heat in Hell’s Kitchen this summer is the worst Matt can remember, the kind of heat that has sweat dripping into the hollow of his neck, between his muscled thighs, down the curve of his ass.

  
None of that matters to Matt though, not when Foggy’s got him on his knees, naked except for the thick collar tight around his throat. Usually, Matt doesn’t particularly care about nudity, not unless it’s under his hands. But Foggy making him strip is different, leaves him hard and with a combination of anticipation and self-consciousness that has Matt squirming to avoid crossing his arms.

  
Foggy’s sitting on their sofa, naked and leaning back faux-casual. His thighs are spread as wide as he can, and the humid air is thick with the smell of Foggy’s sweat and musk. It makes Matt’s mouth water, makes him want. So much he almost misses when Foggy moves to fist his hair and pulls him gently into his crotch, finally giving sweet permission.

  
Tongue out and wide, Matt laps at Foggy’s hole eager and desperate, until the silky muscle is relaxed and Matt’s face is smeared with saliva. Foggy’s balls are big and heavy against his face, heat beyond oppressive and the smell from earlier even more intense. A minute later, Foggy is jerking off slowly, slick pre-come making the slide that much louder to Matt.

  
“That’s so good, Matty,” Foggy mumbles, and Matt moans at the praise. “Lick at my balls, yeah? Put ‘em in your mouth and make ‘em feel good.”

  
Matt’s mouth opens helplessly at the command and he’s sucking gently at the sensitive sack, tracing the seam with his tongue while Foggy’s hand gets faster and faster above him. Until Foggy pulls him up by a hook on his collar, Matt whining as he’s pulled away and come splashes hot across his cheek. When Foggy’s done, he slides his cock into the mess on Matt’s face, marking Matt as his in a way that makes Matt dizzy.

  
“Fuck, Matty, you look so damn wrecked and I haven’t even done anything to you.”

  
Foggy pushes him back into the smothering heat of his taint, and it’s so much more overwhelmingly good with the smell of Foggy’s come stuck in his sinuses. Matt’s squirms, thighs pressed together as his own cock begs for attention.

  
“Could I get you off just like this, Matty?” Foggy’s hand is scratching across his scalp like he would with a dog, and it just makes Matt flush all that much more. “Just from my smell and the thought of making me feel good?”

  
“Foggy, please,” Matt sounds destroyed, even to himself, and he doesn’t know what he’s begging for. He thinks about Foggy’s dick, how fat it feels against his tongue when Foggy lets Matt blow him, the delicious ache that settles in his jaw afterwards. He thinks about the sound it makes when Foggy’s in loose boxers or sweats, such a frustrating tease that had Matt jerking off every few hours when they were roommates at Columbia. He thinks about his latest fantasy, holding Foggy’s cock in his mouth while they watch TV or a movie, being made to hold it for hours as Foggy comes down his throat over and over.

  
Unable to help himself, Matt’s hips hump excitedly into the air, gasping as he finally comes, cock pulsing as he coats his thighs, his abs.

  
“Shit, Matty, you filthy slut,” Foggy’s voice is awed, no doubt impressed that Matt’s this far gone. The word “slut” echoes in Matt’s head as he trembles through the aftershocks. Foggy’s slut, Matt thinks with pride, mindlessly nuzzling as Foggy’s hand moves to cup his cheek.

  
Matt mind is a little fuzzy as Foggy coaxes him up, kissing him over and over, until Matt’s boneless and sprawled across Foggy. They’re disgusting, sweaty limbs tangled together, come pressed between them, but all Matt cares about is how their smells are mixing together in a way that has him drunk and giddy.

  
“Take a nap, buddy,” Foggy murmurs, sounding a minute from dropping off himself. “Cause when we wake up, I’ve got big plans.”

  
Matt makes a sleepy, confused noise as he presses deeper into Foggy’s neck, which gets Matt a laugh.

  
“See, thing is, I never actually gave you permission to come. And I’ve got a few new toys that are dying to meet that sweet ass of yours.”


	2. Matt/Foggy + Danny; Cuckolding

 

Danny finds himself being more useless at Rand than usual. Usually just asked to show his face at stakeholder or strategy meetings, Ward sends him away after his bouncing leg accidentally knocks over a pitcher of water. Which, of course, means Danny’s on paperwork, signing a truly obscene number of contracts all afternoon, stomach flipping in nervous excitement.

By the time he gets to his apartment, Danny’s palms are clammy, jaw sore and clenched, and so out of breath he feels lightheaded. At he pushes his door open, he knows _exactly_ what he’s about to walk into.

Matt and Danny have fantasized too much about this day for him not to know.

He can hear plenty just from the foyer, Matt’s breathless laughter morphing into helpless gasps, the thud of skin on skin, the creaking of rocking furniture.

“F-fuck. _Harder_ .”

Danny’s face flushes hard at the desperation in Matt’s voice. Needy and so, so eager.

Moving furtively down the hall, Danny fumbles out of his loafers and shrugs off his jacket and tie, leaving them distractedly discarded behind him. He’s overheated, untucks the white Oxford he’s already starting to sweat through while he lurks in his own hallway like a goddamn pervert.

Lurking just around the corner from where he can hear the filthy wet slide of another man banging his boyfriend.

“Fuck, you feel like a vise. Matty, how is your pussy this tight around my cock? Does Danny not fuck you right? Or is he a little… lacking?”

Danny swallows, throat tight with shame and arousal as Matt finally sobs out, “H-he does, but… But you’re so big. So much bigger... God….”

When Danny finally sneaks a looking into the room, his jaw drops as his brain tries to parse the image in front of him, hand sliding down to rub against where his cock is pressing insistently against the zipper of his slacks.

Foggy’s sprawled on his back, bare ass pressed against his (insanely expensive) couch like he couldn’t give a damn. Above him, Matt’s head is thrown back in pleasure, feet planted and legs spread whorishely wide, giving Foggy (and, by coincidence, Danny) a perfect view of where Foggy’s obscenely fat cock is being swallowed by Matt’s ass as he wantonly rides Foggy.

Danny’s cock isn’t even half that size.

Matt’s never been that hard while Danny’s fucked him before.

Danny’s never felt more worthless.

And God, Danny’s already completely in love with this, cock leaking into his silk boxers as he spies on his boyfriend being split in two by his best friend.

“Did you ever tell your boytoy about all the times I fucked you in college?”

Foggy’s voice jarrs Danny back from his thoughts. His eyes dart down to Foggy, wondering if he’s as taken in by the mesmerizing bounce of Matt’s sweet ass. Only to find Foggy staring right back at him, face flushed pink with arousal, and mouth upturned into a cocky grin.

Danny can’t help the sharp breath he takes, face burning as he and Foggy stare at each other. Shirt rucked up and wrinkled, red faced and sweating while he palms at himself like a teenager, Danny must look so pathetic.

Which is, of course, when Foggy snaps his hips up harshly into Matt, gripping at his thighs for leverage. For Matt’s part, he can’t seem to control himself, lets out this mewling broken noise that goes on ridiculously long, as Foggy’s thrusts get harsher, deeper, faster.

“I’d slap your cock raw for not answering my question if I wasn’t busy doing all the work here. Did. You. Tell. Him.”

When all Matt does is moan, Foggy actually stops, runs his knuckles gently under Matt’s tight balls in a silent threat.

“N-no. I haven’t. Please, please. Foggy. I need more. No one’s ever fucked me like you do. Not Danny, not anyone.”

“He should know that I’m the one that popped your cherry though, shouldn’t he?” Foggy starts, hips starting to cant up again. “That I ruined you for everyone when we were horny and eighteen, and I fucked you until you were shivering and coming dry and begging me to never stop.”

“Tell him when he gets home. Tell him the reason you could never keep a girlfriend or a boyfriend was because you were always too fucked out to get it up for them when you were alone. Tell him how you used to wait for me to get home from my dates, naked and kneeling and so eager that you’d mouth at my cock, knowing it was still wet and filthy from someone else.”

Danny knows all of this already. He heard these stories from Matt ages ago, used them to fuel his fantasies of tonight. But Foggy doesn’t know that. And hearing him say all of that, hips twitching up lazily, eyes never straying from Danny? Fucking _perfect_.

Between his legs, Danny’s cock is throbbing, chafing in the sopping wet mess inside his boxers as he he humps helplessly against his palm. Danny’s on edge, knows he’s going to end up coming in his pants at least once tonight and that it’s going to be the best orgasm of his life, even if no one’s touching him. No, **because** no one is touching him.

“Anything,” Matt pants out, “I’ll tell him anything you want. Say anything you want. Just. Harder. Please.”

“Awww, anything?” Foggy croons. “So if I said you had to say he had a tiny, pitiful cock?”

“He… oh fuck. Fuck. He…” Matt’s hesitation earns him another pause, and he starts to wail. “He’s so small, Foggy. So fucking tiny. I need you so much. Want you to fuck me everywhere. In Danny’s bed, in our office, in Danny’s office, because Danny doesn’t know how to do it.”

Gasping, Danny has to pull his hand away, knees almost giving out and thighs trembling and pressed together to stave off his orgasm. Just a little more. He just wants to last a little more.

“Fuck, Matty his office though.” And just like that, Foggy is pounding into Matt again.

“Imagine it. Make him sit there and squirm at his desk while I finger you through a few orgasms. Show him that just my hands are more than he’ll ever be before I fuck you on that leather couch by his window for all of New York to see.”

That image. Danny can picture it perfectly. Being made to sign paperwork and watch. Cock out but forbidden to touch himself while Matt and Foggy christen every surface of his office. Foggy eventually pushing Matt off his cock, smirking as lube and come slide out of Matt’s well fucked hole and onto the expensive leather.

Danny confronting him about the couch, about needing to replace it or to have to explain some truly embarrassing stains to the cleaning crew….

And Foggy punishing him for his defiance by pushing his face into the mess and making him lick it up, while Matt cleans himself off of Foggy’s cock with a trembling mouth. Foggy lording over both of them, confident in his ownership.

“Come for me, bitch.”

Wet, heavy breathing drowning out the squelch of lube, Danny’s vision goes white as he does finally come, humiliatingly loud as his untouched cock jerks hard between his thighs, come sliding down his balls, soaking his boxers, his pants, dripping into the carpet.

When Danny looks back up, Foggy’s stroking at Matt’s trembling thighs, soothing. It takes Danny a moment, but then he sees the dripping streaks across Matt’s torso, all the way up to his chest. That command wasn’t for him. It was for _Matt_.

A simple command from Foggy and both Matt and Danny comes harder than they ever have alone.

Foggy has every right to feel like he owns them.


	3. Matt/Foggy; Small Cock Humiliation

 

Matt likes getting fucked on his hands and knees, but Foggy much prefers him on his back, hands gripped against his thighs as he holds himself open, or clawing helplessly at the sheets.

Matt’s never more gorgeous than when he’s like this. The flushed cheeks, face twisted in pleasure, mouth open and gasping. Lean, muscled body splayed out for Foggy to reach out and touch, to trace at the lines of his chest, the cut of those obscene abs. All leading to the slutty spread of Matt’s legs, where Foggy’s cock is pounding into Matt’s ass, while Matt’s little cock pokes up, stiff and leaking against the pubic hair that grows wild at the base. 

“Look at you, baby,” Foggy groans out, and watches as Matt’s unfocused eyes close in shame, cock jumps at the pet name. “I don’t know what’s better. Knowing I’ve got Matt Murdock splayed on his back and begging for more every night. Or knowing that I’m bigger soft than Daredevil is when he’s hard.”

Foggy emphasizes his point with a particularly strong thrust, relishing as Matt’s ass tightens around him.

“I should count myself lucky you’ve got such a sweet ass,” Foggy continues, “Given what you’re packing, I still don’t understand your revolving door of women in college.”

Matt whines, forgetting his rules as he reaches down to touch himself. Foggy watches, aroused and a bit amused as Matt’s hand engulfs his cock, watches how greedily Matt pulls at himself, movements uncoordinated and desperate.

“You know better than that, baby” Foggy starts, and Matt moves his hand away with a sob. The last time Matt broke a rule was about a month ago. Foggy had pulled out of his ass, and left him laying on the bed, hole twitching and empty, while Foggy noisily jerked off to porn in the bathroom. He’ll have to think of something new if it comes to that. “Tell me what rule you just broke.”

Matt moans pitifully, moving his hand back up to grip at the sheets. He takes a moment before he chokes out, “My cock doesn’t get atten-”

“No,” Foggy interrupts, watching as the blush on Matt’s face works its way down to his chest. “Say it right, or I stop right now.”

Foggy changes the nickname every few weeks, when the whim strikes him. Dicklett, baby button, clit, nub, weenie. But this time it’s... 

“B-boy cock. My boy cock doesn’t get attention. Not until you say,” Matt ends with a groan as Foggy thrusts get a little more languid.

“Do you remember that junior partner at Landman and Zack?” Foggy continues, voice airy and conversational, “The one who got blitzed at our last holiday party, and asked if you would do a little “overtime” with her?”

Foggy laughs, voice cruel and teasing. “Not gonna lie, she was ridiculously hot. But I’m guessing she thought you had a little more at bat, because there’s no way in hell she’d let you touch her that.”

“You do have a wicked little mouth though. I bet you could’ve convinced her to let you eat her out. Would you have liked that? Would you have crawled between her legs like a grateful little puppy, so happy she’s still willing to let you touch her? Shown her what a good boy you can be, with your head under her skirt and your boy cock nowhere near her. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Matt groans, presumably in agreement. He’s gone nonverbal, too gone to respond correctly, but Foggy doesn’t fault him. The thought of Matt being used that way, disheveled and dehumanized, is so damn appealing. He picks up the pace, feeling the pleasure building in his spine, the tightening in his thighs. Thrusts erratic, grasp tight on Matt’s thighs, until Foggy can’t hold back anymore.

He comes hard in Matt’s ass, pumps his dick in and out as he rides the aftershocks. When Foggy’s too sensitive to stay inside, he finally pulls out, panting. Matt lets out a sharp breath when Foggy finally pulls out completely. Matt’s hole looks puffy, tender. Wrecked and slowly leaking.

When Matt gives a hiss of pleasure, Foggy opens his eyes (when had he closed them?), only to find Matt disobeying him again. Hand working his dick, so eager for friction he’s furtively humping into his hand.

“I see I’m going to have to punish you tonight,” Foggy says, and Matt’s hand pulls away, ashamed. “On your hands and knees for me. Clean yourself off of me.”

Matt moves into position, pressing a kiss to the head of Foggy’s cock before he starts to lick at the shaft, movements gentle and worshipful.

Foggy lets his mind wander as Matt unabashedly cleans the cock that was just inside him. Matt’s neglected boy cock must be throbbing, aching, but he’s lavishing Foggy’s on command, and that makes Foggy’s chest feel full, contented.

What he’d like to do is shower Matt with praise. Wrap him in his arms and let Matt grind against him until he coming across Foggy’s stomach. Or better yet, to lick and suck at the sweet mouthful that Matt makes, letting Matt finish by fucking his face with abandon.

It’s not like he can choke Foggy with it.

But that’s not what Matt needs tonight. Tonight, Foggy is going to fuck him again. He’s going to keep talking about Matt’s worthless little prick, about what an utter disappointment he’s been in bed, about how grateful Matt should be that Foggy even fucks him.

And later, much later, while Matt’s bent over his knee, nipples clamped and ass paddled red for being such a needy slut, Foggy will make a decision.

Either he’ll let Matt grind himself to completion against his thigh, while the paddle keeps coming down on his ass

Or he’ll leave Matt untouched and unsatisfied, cock hard and weeping against Foggy’s thigh as they settle into sleep.


	4. Matt/Foggy; Collars, Public Sex

 

When they're just playing at home, Foggy plays with the tightness of Matt's collar, just like Matty loves. Foggy will get Matt to kneel between his legs and hook fingers into the gap between the worn leather and Matt's neck, listening for the added rasp to Matt's breathing. If he's feeling especially rough, he'll ask Matt for a blowjob, voice soft and hand firmly holding the collar, so Matt has to choke himself just to get the tip into his eager mouth.

Occasionally, Matt asks if he can wear his collar out during the day, to their office or out to Josie's, hidden under his button-up shirt or his suit jacket, only to peek out when Matt readjusts his tie or stretches just so. And when Foggy catches a glimpse of the narrow leather band, he can't help but reach out to skim the top, soothing where the tender skin must be red and slightly chafed - even though Matt's never said as much.

But Matt asking Foggy if he can wear the collar out to their BDSM club is always his favorite. It's not something Matt asks for very often, given Matt's particular nocturnal extracurriculars and the overstimulation when they do go. But Matt always asks to go in that quiet, uncertain tone that Foggy knows is Matt's way of asking for things he desperately wants, but doesn’t think he deserves.

And Foggy will always strive to make sure Matt knows he deserves everything.

Matt's got special attire for club nights, which Foggy slides Matt into with practiced care. A black silk button up, which Foggy leaves mostly undone so he can slide a hand in to play with Matt's sensitive nipples whenever he gets the whim. Tight jeans that hug Matt's ass, fly open and thick, gorgeous cock pulled through for easy access and for the pretty blush it puts on Matt's face to be feel so exposed. A thin, metal leash attaches to the collar, which Foggy uses to guide Matt through the club whenever he trails behind.

If Matt’s interest drifts to the other patrons they know, Foggy will give them permission to give his boy a try. Some pull Matt onto their laps for a kiss, hands slipping into the back of Matt's pants to finger him until Matt's doing these needy, abortive little hip jerks. Others use his mouth, either on themselves or on their subs as a reward. And a few just like to caress his body, hands inside his shirt and greedy to feel the muscled planes of Matt’s body.

But no one is ever allowed to touch his cock. Or make him come. Those are pleasures reserved for Foggy alone.

Typically, by the time they get to their usual corner, the Matt kneeling at his feet looks nothing like his usual Matt. Face blotchy red, hair tousled and unkempt, mouth wet and messy, cock an angry red and so stiff it must be aching. And through all of this, the look on Matt’s face is one of pure devotion, unfocused eyes wide and vulnerable.

Then comes one of Foggy’s favorite parts of the night. Stipping from the waist down, Foggy pulls on the leash until Matt’s pressed against his hole, nosing at the plug Foggy uses to stretch himself open on club nights and mouthing at the base until Matt’s given permission to pull it out with his teeth

Surrounded on all sides by appreciative stares, excited murmurs, and more than a few people touching themselves, Foggy will pull Matt onto one of the exhibition tables, on his back, hands interlocked behind his head and collar clipped to the table. And then slowly, agonizingly _slowly_ , Foggy will sit on his cock, letting himself get used to the stretch until eventually he’s sitting on Matt’s pelvis.

And Matt, like the good boy Foggy’s trained him to be, keeps his hips firmly planted on the table, even as his thighs tremble with the effort of keeping still. Times like this, Matt’s cock is little more than Foggy’s glorified dildo, his to tease and use and abuse as he desires.

So when Foggy lifts himself up until only the tip is inside of him, hole fluttering like a tease? When Foggy rocks in place so Matt’s pressing perfectly against his prostate? When Foggy asks the crowd for suggestions, and slaps at Matt’s balls to the rhythm of the chanting crowd?

Well, all Matt does is lie there, face going scarlet as his breathing turns to harsh stutters from the _pleasure_ , _pain_ , _tease_ that Foggy subjects him to.

Until Foggy can’t help himself, the slide of Matt inside him so sweet that he eventually comes, shooting across Matt’s belly in thick sticky streaks. And when Matt’s finally given permission, it’s _explosive_ . Cock pulsing impossibly long as his tortured balls finally empty, leaking out of Foggy’s hole in thick rivulets to soak into Matt’s pants. All the while, Matt’s whining out these sweet little broken _thank yous_ that do something complicated to Foggy’s heart.

After the crowd finishes clapping and asking for a round two, Foggy will pull Matt into one of the private baths in the back. Stripping them both down, Foggy will finally take off Matt’s collar, soothing at the red skin he finds underneath the leather. Eventually, the bath will hit the perfect temperature, just shy of hot. And then they’ll sit in the water together for as long as Matt needs, Matt pressed tightly against Foggy’s side, overwhelmed tears hot against Foggy’s neck as Foggy strokes his hair, telling Matt how proud he is, how good he is, how perfect he is.


	5. Matt/Foggy + Danny; Cuckolding #2 (Continuation of Chapter 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was going to write through a few other kinks before coming back to this, but the idea wouldn't leave me after I got the 2 requests to continue chapter 2. So here it is! Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> I hope everyone is having as much fun reading as I am writing this smut!

 

Danny wakes up to his bed rocking, headboard banging noisily against the wall. Confused and sleep stupid, Danny groans out a protest as he sluggishly moves an arm to slap at Matt’s side of the bed to get him to lie still.

And then the thud of skin on skin, and a breathless gasp convince Danny to open his eyes.

Hands braced behind him on the headboard, knees up to his chest, and legs spread wide in the air, Matt’s breathtaking. Slotted between his legs, Foggy’s hands are grasped lazily just under Matt’s knees, using the leverage to press himself lazily into Matt’s hole.

Heart thudding in his ears, Danny’s helpless to do anything but watch. Danny knows he should be angry at the sight, knows that he shouldn’t be feeling the humiliated arousal that pools in his groin as his boyfriend gets fucked into a needy slut by another man. But none of that factors in here. Not when he’s so close that the smell of lube is suffocating in the air, that the filthy wet squelch of each thrust feels like it’s echoing in the dark room.

 _Foggy’s trained them so well_ , Danny thinks, as his hand slides down to play with his already stiff cock.

“Poor baby,” Foggy says in a faux-whisper into Matt’s ear, as if Danny could possibly still be asleep. “I’ve been neglecting this sloppy pussy for the past few days, haven’t I? But I’m fixing that tonight. Gonna fuck you stupid, make sure you never forget who trained this slutty hole.”

And as always, Foggy might be talking to Matt, but he’s staring right at Danny. In the light peeking through the blinds, he can just make out the sharp curve of Foggy’s smirk. Cruel and spiteful and pitying. And nothing like the gentle smiles that Foggy wears during the day. Nothing like the man who stops by with Matt’s favorite takeout when Matt is sick. Nothing like the guy who filled Danny’s iPod with more ‘80s power ballads, ‘90s rap, and ‘00s pop than Danny could ever listen to.

And that makes their whole situation that much better.

“Your boy’s watching us,” Foggy says at a normal level, and Danny jumps, stupidly. Pulling out, Foggy ignores Matt’s whines as he maneuvers Matt onto his hands and knees, so he can stretch Matt’s mouth around his thick cock, and so Foggy can reach over him to show Danny just how he’s ruined his boy.

 _He’s gaping_ , is all Danny can think. Glistening with lube and precome, pink and fluttering and gaping in a way Danny never saw before Matt invited Foggy to join them. Foggy presses three fingers in with practiced carelessness, Matt gagging and groaning as he alternates between rocking forward onto the thick cock in his mouth and back against the fingers teasing at his hole.

“When was the last time you fucked this bitch?” Foggy asks, a touch breathless.

Danny has to clear his throat, fight against the tightness there before he manages to choke out a weak, “This morning.”

“There’s no way,” Foggy’s disbelief makes Danny whine, made more embarassing by the spurt of precome that splatters down the back of his hand. “Matt can’t be this needy if you fucked him this morning. Even he’s not this much of a slut.”

Foggy pulls his fingers out, soaked and dripping, and holds his hand out toward Danny. It isn’t until Foggy shakes them impatiently at him that Danny realized what he wants. Red-faced, excited by the slight involvement, he takes Foggy’s fingers into his mouth, bitter tang of lube heavy on his palate until he’s licked them clean and drooling around them.

“You’re a needy little thing too, aren’t you,” Foggy grows out, and the ache between Danny’s legs gets that much stronger.

Foggy’s fingers leave him with a laugh and a mortifyingly loud pop. Then, with expert movements, Foggy maneuvers them all into a new position. Matt in Foggy’s lap, positioned so Danny can easily see the way Matt pulses around Foggy.

“I’ve made a decision,” Foggy starts, staring Danny dead in the eyes over Matt’s shoulder. “I’m moving in.”

A grateful moan gurgles its way of Matt’s throat, at the same time as whine leaves Danny’s. God, they’re pathetic.

“I can’t have my partner so delirious for good cock that he can’t function at work. So I can’t leave you two alone anymore.”

Danny’s hand speeds up between his legs. So close. He’s so damn close.

“So this is how this is going to go. You can look all you want, whenever you want, but Matty belongs to me. Which means you don’t get to touch anymore. Not without permission.”

Permission. Danny needs permission to touch his boyfriend. Fuck. **Fuck**.

“Birthdays, anniversaries, he’s all yours. Assuming he wants it.” Foggy’s voice drops deadly low as he starts to thrust up into Matt. “But the rest of the time? You’re gonna have to beg for it. Beg for me to let you get your pathetic cock anywhere near Matt, while you watch him hang off mine like a dirty slut.”

“Make me the right offer, do the right things, and you _might_ get permission. But get used to being denied. To coming home after work and making dinner to the sound of Matt getting screwed out of his mind. To pumping that little cock into your fist and wishing it was Matt’s mouth, or his pussy, or hell even his hand.”

Foggy’s thrusts go savage, and to the sounds of Matt’s drawn out moans, Danny finally lets go. His entire body quakes, whimpering as come spills over his body, down his pubes. The aftershocks leave him hazy, trembling, so damn _grateful_ for Foggy.

See, Danny knows Foggy’s just telling a story. Winding Matt and Danny up with fantasies and words and half-formed thoughts in that intoxicating way of his.

But fuck if Danny isn’t going to beg and plead until everything Foggy’s said comes true.


	6. Matt/Foggy; Rutting

Foggy’s riding a dildo hard and fast when Matt gets home from running their errands. He slows to a stop when Matt freezes at their door, slack-jawed.

Perfectly timed, Foggy thinks to himself, fighting back a grin.

“You couldn’t have taken another five minutes? I was about to come.”

Matt’s jaw closes with an audible snap at Foggy’s words, going a faint pink. “I-I could help?”

Foggy’s eyes dart down, where he can see the swell of Matt’s cock against the front of his sweats, the press of the tip where it’s starting to rise. Foggy pretends to consider the offer, pulling the dildo out and beckoning Matt closer.

“That a question?” Foggy asks, laughing as Matt ducks his head. Foggy yanks Matt’s sweats down, stroking the thickening length on display in a loose grip. “Don’t be shy, baby. Your sloppy little pussy aside, this cock is definitely your best features. Big and thick and curved just right.”

Foggy gives Matt’s cock a parting squeeze, scooting onto his back and presenting himself to Matt, legs in the air. “Get into position, baby.”

Matt crawls onto the bed eagerly, thank yous falling from his mouth as he slots himself between Foggy’s legs. Matt’s hands hesitantly grab at Foggy’s waist, leverage as he moves to press against Foggy’s slick hole.

“Remember, I’m not you,” Foggy warns. “I don’t spend every night on my back begging for cock, and I’m looking for a little more finesse than the brutal grunt fucking that turns you into a dribbling mess.”

Matt pinks at Foggy’s words, but he starts to push against Foggy, cock circling Foggy’s hole. “I’ll be a good boy. I’ll be so good for you. Foggy, please...”

“Go on then, baby,” Foggy permits, voice gentle. “Show me you can be a good boy.”

Matt lets out a shaky exhale, trembling as he presses forward, cock longer and thicker than the dildo Foggy had been using. The overwhelming fullness whenever Matt’s fully sheathed inside him, the press against his prostate, the feeling of being stretched wide, Matt’s cock is perfection.

All of this made better by the fine tremors running through Matt, the breathless swears after every few thrusts, the worshipful look on his face. For the past two weeks, Foggy’s entertained himself by denying Matt the permission to come. Two weeks of treating Matt like little more than a hole to be used, selfishly chasing his own pleasure, and then watching Matt devolve into broken pleas as Foggy stops Matt from touching himself. After all that, Matt must be eager for something wet and hot around him, for something to soothe the throbbing ache between his legs.

A particularly sharp thrust from Matt pulls a gasp out of Foggy. It would be so easy for Foggy to come. He can already feel the breathlessness, the tightness in his thighs, the pulsing in his balls. All he’d need to do is give himself a few strokes. So easy.

But there's no fun in easy.

“Fuck, stop. Matty-stop,” Foggy commands.

Matt’s hips stutter to a halt, cock still inside of Foggy. Panting, shaking from the effort of keeping still, all Matt can do is plead. “F-Foggy, I’m so close. P-please. Can I?”

“Pull out. Now.”

Matt obeys with a quiet sob, the look on his face miserable as he backs up to kneel on the bed. Matt’s cock is wet with lube, head jutting out from his foreskin, glistening and exposed.

“See, that was the kind of pounding I said I didn’t want,” Foggy starts, voice harsh and loud to cover up his obvious lie. “How did you ever get anyone off when your only move is jackhammering like an unneutered puppy?”

“I’m sorry. I can be better. I just… tell me how.”

“Show me how you were fucking me just now,” Foggy orders. When Matt hesitates, Foggy rises to soothe at Matt’s back in faux sympathy. “If you want me to tell you how, you have to show me.”

Matt’s hips thrust tentatively into the air, hands clenched at his sides and cock bobbing with each movement. Foggy laughs at the ridiculous image, aroused by Matt’s obedience and the lovely darkening flush on his face.

“You’d never get anyone off like that. Here, like this.” Foggy pushes Matt down until he’s supporting his weight on his hands, cock fat and heavy against the sheets. “There, now give it a try, baby.”

Head bowed, Matt starts again, hissing as his cock grinds against the fabric. And just when his rhythm starts to break…

Foggy swings his arm back and brings it down hard, watching Matt jerk forward, cheeks jiggling from the blow.

“There we go! Is this what you need me to do, Matty? Need me to smack you into behaving?” Foggy chuckles at the reddening mark, captivated by the clenching muscles of Matt’s ass.

“Y-yeah, please. Foggy, slap me. Make me get it right.”

Matt’s reward is a continuous series of spanks while he fucks against the bed. Some hard, some soft, it isn’t long until Matt’s ass is bright red, hot to the touch each time Foggy brings down his hand. Matt’s moans are loud, unabashed, especially when Foggy’s palm accidentally grazes his balls. And all the while, Foggy doesn’t stop running his mouth.

“You’re going to come for me like this, Matty. Thrashing and getting your ass beat like a bad little boy. Humping the bed like the slut you are, chasing any friction you can get on that big, needy cock. Bet this is all you would do, if you could get away with it. Just chase orgasm after orgasm, cock aching but so addicted to playing with yourself that you just can’t stop.”

Matt’s thrusts get faster, shakier, breath coming out in sobs and whines.

“I-I don’t. I can’t. I need. Foggy. P-please. Foggy, please.”

Laughing at Matt’s needy whines, Foggy pulls his palm back one last time, before he brings it down hard against Matt’s balls. The strangled yell that Matt gives, the way his hips jackknife from the pain as he finally gets to comes, squirting onto the bed in these heavy, body shaking pulses, sliding his cock through his own sticky mess just to chase the aftershocks.

Nothing could have been more perfect.

Foggy waits for Matt to still, for that moment when Matt’s sex-addled haze clears, leaving him trembling. Pulling Matt’s head into his lap, Foggy cards a hand through Matt’s sweat-slicked hair, scratching at his scalp in slow, measured movements.

“Fuck Matty, you’re amazing. My good, sweet boy.”

Games over for now, Foggy has no need to hold back the awe in his voice. “Held off your orgasm for two weeks just because I asked. Took your spanking like a such a goddamn champ. Do you know how many times I almost came? Nevermind when you were fucking me, but just from watching you.”

Matt’s sniffs, face a sweaty, tear-stained mess. “You didn’t… Foggy, I can-”

“Shhhh,” Foggy interrupts, soothing in earnest this time. “Not just now. Catch your breath, baby, and we’ll take care of me later, okay?”

Matt nods, before pressing his face harder into the juncture of Foggy’s hip, while Foggy does his best to envelop him with warmth and praise.


	7. Matt/Foggy; Edging

Matt’s mouth falls open when Foggy wraps a hand around his cock, breath escaping in a heavy exhale. Throughout all his preparations for tonight, Foggy’s been very careful not to touch Matt any more than necessary. Stripping Matt between heated kisses and keeping him pinned, so he couldn’t rub against Foggy. Pushing Matt onto his back and securing him to the bed with the red hemp rope, so he can do little more than squirm. Fingering Matt open to make room for the vibrator currently buzzing against his prostate, valiantly ignoring the way Matt’s cock thickened without a touch.

All for this moment. Matt’s cock must be so sensitive, standing proud, flushed a dark, angry red, and leaking so much even his balls are wet. Perfect for what Foggy has in mind.

“So tonight, we’re going to do something a little different, Matty.” Foggy’s voice is already rough, affected by the sight of Matt spread open and helpless. “Tonight, you get to come whenever you want. Does that sound good, pet?”

“Yes, yes. So good. Thank you. Th- oh” Matt cuts off when Foggy moves his hand, stroking in a loose, wet slides.

“But there are some extra rules tonight, baby.” Foggy laughs when Matt responds with an apprehensive groan.

“I’m going to stroke you exactly like this, nice and slow, for as long as it takes for you to come. You can squirm, press down on that vibe in your ass, fuck my hand, whatever helps you get off. I’m not going any faster though.”

Truth is, with his legs tied the way they are, drawn toward his chest and pulled invitingly wide, Matt has no leverage to try any of Foggy’s suggestions. The best he can manage are these sweet little aborted thrusts, doing little more that squirming while Foggy continues his languid strokes.

“But as soon as you come, I’m gonna let go. Gonna stop touching you so I can watch this fat prick pulse and jerk, untouched.”

“Please,” Matt chokes out. “Please, don’t.”

“And as soon as you’re done,” Foggy continues, ignoring Matt’s pleading. “I’m locking you into your cock cage. Stuff you into the smallest cage we have, while you’re still hard, shuddering and unsatisfied, and the last of your come is still sliding down your cock.”

“Here’s the good news though! You get to help decide how long you stay locked up. Each minute I have to stroke you is another day in chastity. Not such a bad exchange rate, right?”

“Th-thank you,” Matt whines out. “So good to me. P-please. Please, just a little more.”

“I can’t wait to see you walking around in your cage again,” Foggy says, amused by Matt’s misplaced gratitude. “Naked, soft, pliant in that sweet way you get when you’re not allowed to come. Gonna fuck you as many times a day as I can. In the shower before we go to work, in front of that big window in my office, in the bathroom stalls at the courthouse. Everywhere I can sneak you away for a quick fuck and watch your cock swing uselessly between your legs.”

A squirt of precome shoots out over the back of Foggy’s hand, and it makes him smirk. A little dirty talk, the promise of a little public sex and more than a little humiliation, and Matt’s a happy little slut.

Certain Matt wouldn’t last much longer if he kept talking, Foggy lets himself fall silent, focusing instead on cataloguing the situation. The way the buzz of the vibrator and Matt’s frustrated keening drown out the _slick, slick, slick_ of Foggy’s teasing handjob. The bulge of Matt’s muscles, tense and straining against the ropes. The feel of Matt’s cock in his hand, hot, too thick for his hand to get around, and still so unbelievably wet. The sheen of sweat, glistening in a way that makes Foggy want to trace the muscled lines of Matt’s torso with his tongue. The way Matt licks at dry lips, swallows hard, but otherwise has his mouth open in a quiet moan.

God, Foggy loves this beautiful man.

And when Foggy sees the tremors in Matt’s legs become more pronounced, when his weak squirming into Foggy’s grip gains that extra edge of desperation, Foggy starts to run his mouth again.

“Your pretty cock has been so hard for so long. You must be _aching_ for it. Are you going to come for me, pet?”

A whine from deep in Matt’s throat and an exaggerated nod are all the answer Foggy gets. Which is perfectly fine by Foggy. Nonverbal, needy Matt is one of his favorite Matts. But 1 minute… 2 minutes... 3 minutes later, and Matt’s still on edge. Just getting louder, shakier, more desperate.

“M-more! More! Please! I can’t. I-I can’t.”

Foggy considers his options for a moment, thinking on his options. “Tell you what, Matty. I’ll play with the vibe in your hole, give you that little extra push.”

And as Foggy starts to fuck Matt with the vibrator, as Matt starts on a litany of _thank you_ , and _please, more_ , and _harder_ , Foggy decides to add one more thing.

“But when the cage comes off, I’m going to milk you until your cock is so sore you’ll be begging for the cage to come back on.”

Matt **_wails_ **as he finally comes apart, straining against his ropes so hard that the bed frame creaks in protest. Immediately, Foggy stops pumping the vibrator, lets go of Matt’s cock, as Matt’s sobbing goes frustrated. His balls draw up tight, cock bobbing, visibly _throbbing_ , as thick ropes of come splatter across Matt’s chest, down his abs. The need to rub against something, _anything_ , must be all-consuming, as Matt’s hips twitch upwards, drop of come sliding down the side of Matt’s cock as it starts to soften.

Foggy only tears his eyes away when he belatedly realizes that he needs to check the clock.

“46 minutes, Matty. You’re going to be in the cage for over _six weeks_.”

Matt responds with a sob.


	8. Matt/Foggy/Danny; Deepthroating

Foggy’s fist is tight against the short strands of Matt’s hair, pushing him down mercilessly on Danny’s cock until his nose is pressed uncomfortably into Danny’s pelvis. Matt can’t stop gagging, eyes red and tears streaming down his face. His boy’s throat must feel great, if the involuntary flexing of Danny’s hands is anything to go by, but he’s behaving, hips still as Foggy drags Matt up and down Danny’s cock like a glorified fleshlight.

“You know, I wasn’t sure about inviting you,” Foggy starts, addressing Danny without looking at him, “But just look at Matty. One look at your big dick and he knew his place. On his knees, servicing a real cock.”

Foggy’s eyes trail down the hard lines of Matt’s body, between his knees, and finds himself almost impressed that Matt still can get hard. Foggy had dedicated the entire day to wring out orgasm after orgasm from him, polishing his cock nonstop until Matt was begging him to stop, so sensitive afterwards that the scrape of boxers against skin made him hiss. He’d wanted Matt as small as possible, cock soft and balls tight to emphasize their worthlessness. Still, it’s something to torture later, so Foggy can’t be too upset.

Foggy eventually pulls Matt off, purposefully disregarding his sputtering gasps to check in on Danny, running his thumb across the man’s bare thigh to get him to look down. Danny is flushed down to his chest, sweet shy thing that he is about sex, hips twitching from the effort not to thrust back into Matt’s mouth without Foggy’s permission. When he meets Foggy’s eyes, he smiles and nods.

When the three of them met to discuss tonight, Danny had been hesitant, unsure of how to reconcile his excitement at being invited to join them for a night with his disbelief that either Matt or Foggy had any of the kinks they were describing. So Danny asked if he could watch them for a few scenes, to get his brain around the notion of powerplay.

Over the span of a week, Danny was invited over each time Matt and Foggy played, sat in the corner and allowed to jerk off as long as he wasn’t distracting. Foggy watched the awe on Danny’s face with smug pride, excited at the thought of bringing Matt down in front of a captivated audience.

And admittedly, there was a little flourish to their games. When Matt decided to act like a brat, he got put over Foggy’s knee and spanked with his own belt rather than the usual hand spanking. When Foggy locked Matt into a chastity belt for coming too soon, he picked a special one, a particularly small pretty pink plastic piece, adorned with this cute little bell that jingles as Matt’s getting fucked. And when Foggy put Matt in a pair of panties and a sinfully tiny skirt, he made sure to tease Matt, pinching lazily at his nipples, hand lightly caressing his little bulge, licking at his neck, until Matt had soaked through the panties and was begging to get fucked.

That one made Danny come the hardest. Granted, Foggy doesn’t know whether that was because he was imagining himself in Foggy’s position (although Foggy suspects Danny would rather be in Matt’s), or because they had stumbled on a kink that Danny especially liked (Foggy can’t imagine the monks that raised Danny were big on sex positivity or kink exploration). Either way, Foggy’s just glad Danny decided to join them.

Reassured that Danny is doing fine, Foggy turns his attention back to Matt. Bringing Matt’s head a little closer, he grabs hold of the base of Danny’s cock and slaps it down against Matt’s cheek, laughing when Matt tries to turn his head to catch it in his mouth.

“He’s such a thirsty little thing, don’t you think? You know, I used to lose him at parties when we were at school. I used to think it was because he’d found a girl to spend the night with, especially with how he'd swagger home the next morning. But I bet this is what he was really doing. Getting spitroasted and gangbanged from sundown to sunrise by any cock waved in his direction.” Foggy finally moves Danny’s dick back into position, head less than an inch from Matt eager mouth. “C’mon, Matty, let’s hear you beg for it. If you do a good job, I’ll let Danny off his chain and let him facefuck you the way you deserve.”

“Please,” Matt rasps out, red-rimmed eyes desperate. “Foggy, please let him fuck my throat. I’m your bitch, your slut, let me be his, too. Just, please make me feel it. I need it, so bad.”

Foggy grins up at Danny, making eye contact with him again. He can see the hunger, the eagerness for permission. This time Foggy nods his confirmation, chuckling as Danny grabs Matt’s head with both hands and mercilessly thrusts in. In the silence of their bedroom, the sound of Matt gagging around Danny echoes while Danny pounds in frantically.

Feeling fond, Foggy ruffles Matt's hair through the rough treatment, thinking about the rest of the evening. In a bit, once Danny has shot down Matt’s throat as many times as he can manage, and Foggy’s relieved himself a few times in Matt’s tight ass, Foggy is going to make sure Matt can’t wear clothes for the rest of the weekend, giving Foggy and Danny easy access. He’ll clamp and tug at Matt’s nipples until they’re bruised, too tender to handle the rasp of Matt’s tight shirts. He'll get Matt on hands and knees and belt his ass until it’s bright red, too sore for even the silkiest underwear. Just to be certain, he’s going to milk that cock again, until it’s so agonizingly sensitive even a soft exhale will make Matt shudder. He wants to go back to their little office on Monday morning with Matt still aching, satisfied and completely blissed out. He wants Danny to go back to Rand distracted, half-hard in his meetings as his mind plays back this weekend, eager to join Matt and Foggy when they next invite him to play.


	9. Matt/Foggy; Somnophilia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had such a blast writing this kink that the chapter got away from me and became a touch longer than I planned. On the bright side, I now have a sense of what I would consider making its own fic vs what I would just leave as a chapter here.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! Let me know what you think!
> 
> Next stop, when I get another chance to write, office sex!

 

Early in their relationship, Foggy learns how hard Matt gets off on being used by Foggy, especially when there’s a risk that Matt himself may not get to come.

It quickly becomes a part of their daily routine. Putting Matt on his knees just before they leave their apartment, fucking his throat raw until Foggy’s spent and they have to sprint to make their court date. Bending Matt over his desk and making him spread his cheeks apart, Foggy jerking off until he splashes hot across Matt’s ass and they have a minute to put themselves away before lunch ends. Fucking Matt against the wall of a dive bar restroom after work, pounding into him in quick, relentless thrusts so Foggy finishes before another patron comes knocking.

The feeling is _intoxicating_. The sense of lazy, bone deep satisfaction that comes with a great orgasm. Thinking about how Matt’s going to spend the rest of the day aching for more, cock throbbing between his legs, trembling thighs pressed together to give himself an extra bit of friction even while he tries to hide his obscene erection. Watching as Matt fights instinct, fights the maddening urge to palm himself or to rut into Foggy’s thigh, all because Foggy hasn’t told him to do it.

But more than all of that, the greatest part of this is knowing that Matt has no idea when or how he’s going to come. That’s he’s entrusted that part of himself completely over to Foggy, sure in the knowledge that Foggy won’t abuse the power he’s been given.

And so, when they’re both lying in bed one night and Matt stutters around a breathless request to get used even harder, Foggy brings up the idea of fucking Matt when he’s asleep.

“Think about it, Matty. Going to bed in your sweats and a tank top, still hard because I wouldn’t let you get off before bed. Waking up naked because I stripped you down. Ass gaping and throat sore because I felt like doing that to you. Your cock sloppy with the come I wrung out of you while you were asleep, when you couldn’t even _enjoy it._ ”

The hot, wet press of Matt’s coming against Foggy’s thigh is proof enough that Foggy’s struck gold.

The problem, as they realize over the course of the next three nights, is that Matt isn’t the heaviest sleeper. And Foggy’s gentle. Tugs down Matt’s sweats in a slow, measured movement. Pries open the slit of his boxers before he pulls out Matt’s long, broad cock and fat, heavy balls. Keeps his touch light as he coaxes Matt to hardness, teasing at the head with lube-slicked fingers and tiny flicks of his tongue, until Matt’s just starting to leak from the attention.

Which, unfortunately, is also about when Matt jolts awake. Voice sleep-rough as he asks Foggy for permission to come.

Permission Foggy finds himself denying, Matt’s pitiful groans serving as his consolation prize.

 

* * *

 

A few weeks later, Foggy’s walking home in the brisk evening air, having offered to stay and finish paperwork so Matt could run their errands. Matt had thanked him with a sly grin, a deep kiss, and an enticing promise that he’d have a surprise waiting for him at home.

By the time Foggy gets to their door, he has dozens of barely formed ideas about what his surprise might be. Matt naked except for his collar and pink cock cage. Matt in a pair of red silk panties and a tiny skirt. Matt dressed as Daredevil, ass spread open by a loud vibrating plug.

Instead, what he finds is Matt snoring on their sofa, chin resting on his chest as a thin line of drool falls from the corner of his mouth. He’s got a hand between his legs, as though Matt had been pawing at himself through his loose pajama pants before passing out. All around him are a dozen beer bottles, the last one half full and dewy with perspiration. And on the table in front of him is a piece of paper with one word in Matt’s horrible scrawl.

“Surprise.”

Foggy goes breathless when he realizes what Matt’s done, how perfectly he’s set the scene for him. Which means it’s time for a test. Hands gentle, he lifts the hem of Matt’s black tank, hands skimming at Matt’s pale skin until he can pull the front over his head, tucking it against the back of Matt’s neck.

Not even a twitch in response. It’s _amazing_.

Emboldened, Foggy lets his hands trail over Matt’s exposed torso. Circling those pretty pink nippled before he tweaks them, watching as they harden under his fingers. Tracing the edges of Matt’s muscled pecs, letting his fingers fan across both of them as he squeezes the firm mounds. Skimming the rock-hard abs that Matt maintains so religiously, thumb tracing tenderly across the raised skin of each scar he finds. All parts of Matt he’s had under his hands hundreds of times. Except this time, there’s no impatient huff as Foggy takes his time, no half-suppressed giggle at the light touch. Just a low snore, and an interested twitch from the bulge at Matt’s crotch.

And when he’s had his fill, Foggy moves down to caress Matt’s groin. Rubbing at the curve of Matt’s cock, squeezing after every stroke, keeping his rhythm random, soft and fast, rough and slow, until he teases Matt erect. The thin pajamas tent excitingly, waistband stretched until the front pulls away from Matt’s hips, exposing the top of the wiry hair at the base of Matt’s cock. Carefully, Foggy pushes against the side of Matt’s stiff shaft, navigating until he’s got it pushed against Matt’s thigh, that much easier to tease at the full length in its new position.

Using only his thumb and forefinger, Foggy traces the gorgeous hard line of Matt’s cock in light, easy strokes. With his other hand, he gropes at Matt’s balls, rolling and squeezing at the heavy sack, amused when Matt’s legs unconsciously widen, fighting back a laugh as Matt gives a sleepy murmur of approval. Eventually, Foggy lets his movements gain a little momentum, hand faster, grip tighter. Watching as Matt’s brow starts to dampen with sweat, cherry red mouth slightly parted, but features otherwise soft and sleep slack.

Matt’s _gorgeous_ like this, and Foggy feels the air leave his lungs for a second time tonight, replaced with adoration that leaves his chest tight. He’d kiss Matt if he were awake, would relearn the shape of Matt’s lips, would let the devotion he’s feeling spill out into whispered rambling between kisses.

But that’s something to file away for later. Now is for admiring Matt, soft and vulnerable in a way he never is when he’s awake. Hands pinching at the sides of Matt’s pajamas, Foggy tugs them down to Matt’s knees. It’s harder than he expects, has to shimmy them off of Matt’s hips to get them past where they’re pinned to the sofa under Matt’s weight.

Underneath, Matt’s wearing these black, silk boxers, a pair Foggy bought him because of the way they tease at Matt, keeping him half-hard as he wears them around the house. In his efforts to get Matt’s pajamas off, he’s pulled them down just slightly, exposing some of the dark, wild bush that Foggy convinced Matt to stop shaving a few months ago.

Maneuvering a hand into the fly, Foggy finally gets a handful of hot, stiff flesh. He thumbs the sensitive ridge under the head of Matt’s cock, feels the glide get slick as precome wells at the tip. Matt’s breathing goes a little hard, and Foggy stills, waiting until it evens out again to work Matt’s cock through the opening of his boxers. Flushed an angry red and pulsing, Matt’s cock looks _mouthwatering_ , long and drooping slightly under its heft, bead of precome rolling down the underside.

Spitting into his hand to make the slide easier, Foggy takes Matt fully in hand to give him a few full length strokes, savoring the feel as he notes Matt’s hips mindlessly following the tug in small twitches. One hand gripping the base of Matt’s shaft, Foggy moves his other to palm the head of Matt’s cock in a way he knows would be maddening if Matt were awake. Rubbing in these increasingly large circles as his spit dries out, quickly replaced by slick precome he smears against his palm. When there’s enough that his hand feels soaked, and Matt’s letting out these half-gurgled groans, Foggy changes tactics.

Nothing but downward strokes with both hands. Going from tip to base with one hand, only to start again with the other, over and over in an endless channel for Matt to push into, brow slightly furrowed, breath slightly heavier, but eyes still firmly closed as his body unknowingly chases orgasm.

Which is when Foggy has an idea. Matt lets out a little sigh of loss as Foggy tucks Matt’s massive cock back into his boxers, gripping at the base to pin the silky fabric to Matt’s cock. Foggy wraps his other hand around as much of Matt as he can manage through his boxers, and starts to jack the entire length. Fearless, punishing strokes, up and down, _faster_ and _harder_ and _tighter_ until-

Matt lets out a guttural groan as he finally comes, nothing like the high, keening whimpers he usually makes. Foggy’s grip goes wet and sticky, come squelching as it oozes through the silk and coats his hand. All through it, Foggy doesn’t let up, strokes screwing with each upstroke as he reaches the sensitive crown of Matt’s cock, until Matt’s squirming under his touch.  Letting go, Foggy wipes his hand in the hair on Matt’s belly, scratching as Matt lets out a happy noise. Soothing as Matt settles back into these peaceful, sleepy little snores.

Undoing his slacks, Foggy keeps down a hiss as he pulls out his cock, having forgotten his own erection in the sight of a sleeping Matt. Foggy’s eyes glance up to Matt’s face, as he thinks about the best way to come. Across Matt’s chest? Over his cheeks and pretty lips? Into the mess already at Matt’s softening cock?

Giving himself a few strokes to take the edge off, Foggy considers his options, hopeful he’ll get to try at least a few of them.


	10. Matt/Foggy; Exhibitionism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I had just gotten home from work. I was writing a chapter about office sex, per a request, and then this idea popped into my head and refused to go away?
> 
> Anyway, surprise exhibitionism chapter! Hope you enjoy!

It’s just shy of 4 AM when Matt and Foggy finally make their way home, thankfully in that brief liminal space when virtually no one is on the street. They had just been about to leave the office for a late dinner when Matt heard the start of a small brawl, right at the edge of his sense. So instead, Foggy had kissed Matt, made him swear to be safe as Matt suited up, and sent him off with an appreciative squeeze of his ass, a promise that they’d have a little fun later if Matt was up for it.

Except one incident became two. Two became four. Four became seven. And it wasn’t until Foggy was moments from passing out on his desk that Matt slid back into the office, mouth upturned in a cruel approximation of a smile. This full-mouthed, victorious grin he wears after a good night as Daredevil that turns Foggy on like nothing else.

So Matt walks home leaning on Foggy’s shoulder in the Devil’s clothing, Foggy listening with pride and more than a little arousal as Matt relays the night’s events. Fighting back the urge to kiss at Matt’s ridiculous smirk until they’re in the alleyway behind their apartment building, copper tang heavy against his tongue as he presses Matt against the fire escape.

“Matty,” Foggy pulls back a bit when they separate for air, pressing a hand to Matt’s chest when Matt tries to follow him. “Pull down your pants.”

Matt’s teeth click as his mouth closes, taking a dry swallow as he tilts his head, clearly scanning for anyone nearby.

“F-Foggy, there’s-”

Foggy grabs a fistful of Matt’s hair through the black mask, laughing as Matt lets out a surprised yelp. Pulling Matt’s head back to expose his neck, Foggy nips at the sweat-slicked skin in warning.

“Didn’t ask you who was around. Pull. Down. Your. Pants.” Foggy bites at Matt’s jaw. “Unless you want to start talking punishments?”

Matt fumbles at his belt with a whine, fingers uncoordinated as they undo the button and pull down his zipper. Foggy doesn’t look down until Matt’s got his pants down to mid-thigh, cock peeking out through damp boxers, already starting to fatten in interest.

“Fuck, you’re such a little slut, aren’t you, Daredevil?” Foggy’s voice is intentionally loud, relishing in Matt’s sharp, panicked gasp. With his free hand, Foggy reaches down to pull Matt’s cock out into the cold, night air.

“A bit of rough treatment and a hand on your cock, and you look like you’re ready to do whatever I say.” Foggy rubs his thumb in the precome gathering at the tip of Matt’s cock, feels the shudder that runs through him as Matt thickens in his hand. “What would you do for me, if I asked? If I promised you that I’d fuck you at the end?”

“ _Anything_.” Matt already sounds ruined, looks concussed, from little more than some idle groping. “Anything you want.”

“Gonna hold you to that one day,” Foggy warns, massaging and stroking until Matt’s cock is fully hard, leaking messily against his palm. “Imagine what you’d look like cruising at the park. Offering up your mouth to every late night rent-a-cop, dirty businessman, and virgin twink looking to get off. Until even the tourists know where to go if they want to see Daredevil acting like an eager hole begging to be filled.”

“But that’s for another night,” Foggy promises, moving his hand lower to slap lightly at Matt’s balls, just to watch him jump. Does it again, just because he can. “Go up to the roof. Wait for me with your hands behind your back. And don’t you dare cover up.”

Matt scrambles as soon as Foggy lets him go, cock bobbing wildly in the air as he climbs the stairs in a panic.

Foggy loiters for another minute, stretching his neck until he feels a satisfying pop. And then slowly saunters up the stairs until Matt comes into view, head bowed and biting into his bottom lip. Foggy makes his way to the roof access of their apartment, sliding in the key as though to open the door before he turns to face Matt. He takes in the bulge of Matt’s chest through the black shirt, made prominent by the strain of clasping his arms behind him, notes the way Matt’s erection hadn’t flagged from the cold or lack of stimulation, precome dripping in a glossy string from the tip. Looking debauched and ready for Foggy.

“Strip down for me, baby.”

The sound of a seam ripping is loud in the otherwise silent air as Matt carelessly works the shirt over his head. His pants and boxers follow quickly after, pulled off together in one fluid motion. When Matt steps out of the puddle of clothes at his feet, he puts his hands behind his back again, letting Foggy look his fill at the beautiful sight of Matt in nothing but that ridiculous black mask.

“That’s a good boy,” Foggy starts, and Matt’s cock jumps at the endearment. “But you’re supposed to fold your clothes when you strip.”

“Don’t bother now,” Foggy interrupts when Matt makes to bend over. “You’ve already broken that rule.”

“But-”

“Shhhhh, baby.”

Foggy adjusts himself in his pants before making his way behind Matt. Wrapping his arms around Matt’s waist, he uses the extra leverage to grind his clothed erection against Matt’s bare ass. The friction feels excellent, made better by the wanton way Matt pushes back, the weak little moan he lets out when Foggy finally starts to touch his cock again.

“So let me break down this evening for you,” Foggy’s voice is idle as he pumps Matt faster and faster.

“Right now, I’m going to jerk you off until you come. Right here, in full view of anyone who wants to watch Daredevil cream himself like a little bitch.”

Matt’s hips start to thrust into Foggy’s tight grip.

“Then, after you’ve licked your mess clean, we’re going inside and I’m going to spank you for breaking your rules. Belt your ass until you squirt against my hip like the filthy painslut you are, and you can’t sit right for a week.”

Matt’s keening, _yes, yes, yes_ falling from his lips, hips stuttering faster and more erratically.

“And after I’ve fingered you through a third orgasm, gotten your hole wet and sloppy, that’s when I’ll fuck you. Pounding into your blistered ass while your cock aches as it tries to fill up again, flopping uselessly between your legs. Sound good?”

“F-fuck. Yes. _Please_. Foggy. Foggy.”

Matt’s cock pulsed under his hands, coating his stomach, erupting over Foggy’s hand as Foggy’s name spilled out of his mouth like a prayer.

* * *

Much later, Matt's nuzzling into Foggy’s chest as the sun starts to rise, light bleeding into their bedroom. Foggy’s petting Matt’s hair, craning his neck to admire the bright red welts on Matt’s ass.

“You’re an animal,” Matt’s voice rumbles against him, the first thing he’s said that wasn’t some variation of begging.

Foggy giggles, grinning when Matt lets out an unapologetic snort that Foggy shouldn’t find adorable.

“And you’re a devil. You telling me you can’t keep up?”

“Someone could’ve seen us.”

“And I’d bet good money that if someone had, you would’ve come even harder.”

Foggy can feel the flush on Matt’s face as he buries his face deeper into Foggy. A comfortable silence settles in the room and Foggy finds himself drifting away to the soft snuffles of Matt’s breathing.

“Hey, Fog?” Foggy hmmms in response when Matt speaks up in a quiet, timid voice. “Did… did you mean what you said? About the park?”


	11. Matt/Foggy; Office Sex, CBT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for a request for office sex, and especially for Matt under Foggy's desk while they pretend like they're not doing anything.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! :)

The best part about being in love with Matt? Getting to have all of the  _ hard, fast, make-your-toes-curl _ office sex that Foggy’s been fantasizing about for the better part of a decade. Pressing Matt against the wall of his office on a quiet day. Feeling the goosebumps on his neck, Matt’s pulse racing under his hands as they kiss. Slow and deep, biting bruises down Matt’s neck, his chest, his stomach. Until he’s tugging underwear over a leaking cock that won’t last more than a minute in Foggy’s mouth before Matt’s begging to be allowed to come.

The worst part about being in love with Matt? Working through a busy day and pretending like he’s not thinking about all of the  _ hard, fast, make-your-toes-curl _ office sex he’d rather be having. Digging through case law for a half-remembered precedent or walking through legal document, trying not to think about the way Matt looked the night before. Bent over his desk and gagged with his own underwear while Foggy licked him open. Matt boneless and shaking apart against the wood while Foggy fucked into him at a relentless pace. 

Thankfully, today, is a slow day. No tips on potential clients, no active cases, not even a walk-in. Which means that come the afternoon, Foggy can push Matt onto his hands and knees, tuck that lithe frame under Foggy’s desk, and watch as Matt mouths ravenously at the bulge of Foggy’s cock.

“Wanna spend the rest of the day sucking my dick, Matty?” Foggy asks, carding idly through Matt’s silky hair, pressing Matt just slightly harder against his bulge.

This is a fantasy Matt told Foggy about early in their relationship. About wanting to sit at Foggy’s feet for hours, mouth stretched wide around Foggy’s cock. Waiting, ignored, while Foggy goes about his life, watching TV or working on the computer. Until, eventually, Foggy pulls Matt down to the base, fucks lazily into Matt’s willing mouth.

“Foggy, please,” Matt begs, mouth shiny and flushed. A warm, wet heat that Foggy wants wrapped around him.

So Foggy maneuvers his cock through his fly, laughing as Matt chases with his mouth when it slaps against his cheek. Moving a hand down to scratch at Matt’s nape, Foggy let’s Matt handle the effort of getting Foggy’s cock down his throat and working out a rhythm. Let’s him drool around the base until Foggy’s pubes are soaked, until Matt pulls up to lick softly at the tip. Face upturned in that shy way of his that Foggy finds so charming, so Foggy can see the gentle curve of his smile, the aroused flush starting to spread across his cheeks.

Fuck, the way Matt looks when he’s got his lips around Foggy’s cock, hazy with pleasure and so damn eager. It’s awe-inspiring, breathtaking in a way that has Foggy canting his hips a little, pushing when Matt pulls back, resting when Matt slides down. Again and again, the suction and the slide so good-

“Excuse me!” There’s a male voice coming from the front, muffled through the closed door, but so sudden that Foggy jumps. Shirt untucked and unbuttoned, hair mussed and disheveled, there’s no way that Matt can crawl out without looking like a well-fucked mess. And in spite of this, the look on Matt’s face is mischievous, all smirk and none of the panic that’s rising in Foggy’s chest.

Which is when Foggy realizes. There’s no way for someone to actually sneak up on Matt. Not when he can hear every person entering and exiting the building. Matt knew this guy was about to come in. He knew and he did nothing to warn Foggy. 

So that’s how Matt wants to play.

“In here” Foggy calls out after clearing his throat. He tightens his grip on Matt’s hair for a second, a warning to stay quiet and a promise of what’s to come.

The guy who walks in looks like a child playing dress-up in his father’s clothes, a young and cherubic face sticking out from an ill-fitting suit.

“Hey. I’m looking for Nelson? Or Murdock? ...Sorta hoping you’re one of the two.”

“Well, you’ve caught the better half,” Foggy jokes, nudging at Matt with his knee. “I’m Foggy Nelson. What can I do for you?”

“My name’s Keaton. I’m a 2L summer intern at the DA’s office, sir,” the kid starts, sitting down before he starts to rifle through a battered briefcase. “I have some forms they forgot to ask you to sign, related to the release of a Miss Mayfield?”

“Ah yes, American bureaucracy at its finest.”

And so Foggy starts to flip through the documents, trying to keep up with Keaton’s idle chatter. Half-reading through each form before he signs, Foggy distracts himself from the pleasure by imagining the deep scarlet this kid would go if he knew what was happening under the desk. The screech he’d let out as he scrambled to run out of the room. But by the time he gets to the last page, Foggy can feel the sweat rolling down the back of his neck, the way his face is warm and his breath is getting a little ragged.

Matt, because he’s incorrigible, is gagging himself on Foggy’s cock in order to keep quiet, sucking gently, slowly. His throat flutters teasingly around Foggy’s erection, as Matt struggles to breath, and the fact that Matt’s choking around him has Foggy much closer than he wants.

“You okay there, Mr. Nelson?” Keaton asks, face scrunched. “You look a little feverish.”

“Just warm,” Foggy reassures, taking a moment to wipe his brow with the back of his hand. “My layabout partner is off playing hooky somewhere, and I’m stuck in this hot office, doing all the heavy lifting.”

“Well, I hope Mr. Murdock returns the favor?”

Foggy flashes the kid a grin, jostling Matt with his thigh as he does. “Oh, I’ll think of some way for him to make it up to me.”

Foggy wipes his sweaty palms on his thighs, before gathering all of the paperwork. When he moves to shake Keaton’s hand, he presses even further into Matt’s mouth. Matt’s muffled gag is loud enough that he sees some confusion cross Keaton’s face. But not so loud that Foggy’s reassurance isn’t enough to send him on his way, as he gathers himself with all the pomp of a 23 year old law student.

Foggy waits until he hears the front door close. Gives it a few beats, just to be sure they’re alone again, and then...

Foggy grabs a fistful of Matt’s hair and thrusts into Matt’s plush mouth, vicious and relentless. Tears streaming down his cheeks, face hot and flushed, Matt looks wanton, palming himself greedily as Foggy uses him.

So Matt didn’t warn him about their visitor and he’s been touching himself. The  _ nerve _ .

“I’m gonna come, Matty” Foggy warns, “Fuck- And after. After, I’m going to make sure you get off. But I promise, I’m gonna make it hurt.”

Matt moans at the promise, little painslut that he is. And those vibrations are all Foggy needs. Holding Matt’s face against his pelvis, Foggy finishes down Matt’s throat with a low groan. Matt gags loudly as he fights to swallow, drool dripping thick and warm against Foggy. 

And after Foggy’s caught his breath, he drags Matt up by the scruff of his shirt. Somehow, Matt’s worked his pants down to his knees, waistband of his boxers shoved just under his balls. His cock is visibly pulsing, leaking heavily, clearly just a few strokes away from coming. 

“Get ready to get those balls busted,” Foggy says, turning Matt to face the desk. One hand wrapping around the head of Matt’s cock and the other hand cradling his balls, Foggy lets his palm get tacky with precome, before he tightens his grip. “But first, I need to decide whether pain counts as a punishment, or as a reward.”

Matt gasps as Foggy lifts up his balls, shivering as they’re pressed high and tight against the base of his cock. “Cause you definitely need to be punished for acting like a little slut. Pretending like you didn’t hear our visitor coming, touching yourself because you might get caught.”

Foggy starts to move the hand toying with the head of Matt’s cock. A fast corkscrew over the head, before he slides his hand down hard, slamming into Matt’s balls. Matt wheezes as the air is knocked out of his lungs, squirming more with each punishing stroke that Foggy gives him.

“Except look at you, you filthy little bitch. You should be in so much pain you’re going soft. And instead, you’re getting off on it. Getting harder and wetter the more I crush your balls. You gonna squirt over my desk soon? Gonna squeal while you come apart? All because I’m hurting you just the way you like?”

Matt’s cock is swollen and dark, balls looking agonized and red. When Foggy lets go of Matt’s balls, in favor of giving them a hard, open-palmed slap, Matt comes apart. With a sharp sob, Matt splatters messily across the wooden desk in long, sweeping arches.

Just for a bit of extra fun, Foggy bends Matt over, presses his cheek against the largest puddle of come, and doesn't let him back up until Matt’s licked up every drop.

“You good, Matty?” Foggy asks, once he’s pulled Matt up to straddle his lap. Matt looks a beautiful mess, hair flying in every direction, clothes technically on but covering nothing, face streaked with come.

Matt nods, seemingly not up for speaking yet, before he leans forward for a kiss. The taste of come is heavy on Matt’s tongue, and Foggy thinks distantly that they taste good together. He lets Matt control this, gives him all of the space, time, and attention that Matt needs to pull himself together.

In a moment, Foggy’s going to check if Matt’s okay again, before he gets them at least presentable enough for the walk home. He’ll keep Matt tucked against his side, whispering praise in his ear, until the fragile edges in Matt’s voice are gone. And then, well after they get home, sometime between making dinner and sniping at each other over dishes, Foggy will ask if Matt if he wants to go another round.


	12. Matt/Foggy; Crossdressing, Body Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was born from a request for crossdressing by a very lovely commentor. Thank you, silenceinmolasses!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! And please feel free to feed my fanfic addiction by leaving me comments, suggestions, kudos, etc ;)

Foggy whispers the promise of a surprise into Matt’s ear just before their last interview for the day. A simple public intoxication case, Foggy finds himself distracted during the meeting, focused more on Matt than he is on Mr. Alvaro’s story. Given that he catches Matt shift and cross his legs to hide the swell of his cock, Foggy hazards that Matt isn’t faring much better.

But soon, they’re walking home, Matt’s grip on Foggy’s arm a little clammy in anticipation. Matt keeps guessing, voice deep and breathy against Foggy’s ear, clearly delighting in the shivers it sends down Foggy’s back.

“Nipple clamps?”

“We’ve got four pairs. Why would I buy more?”

“Cock cage?”

“Strike two, Mr. Murdock. I’m starting to think you’re not even trying.”

“Humbler?”

_ That one _ makes Foggy stumble.

“... Not something we’ve ever talked about, but if you’re serious, I know exactly what I want for my birthday.”

And so it goes, Matt’s guesses veering into the ridiculous ( _ Matty, what the hell is a Clone a Willy? _ ) and the ridiculously hot ( _ Kinda wish I HAD bought a bullet vibe _ ) until they’re in their bedroom and Foggy presses a bag into Matt’s curious hands.

The first thing Matt pulls out is a skirt, black and made of a synthetic leather that’s smooth to the touch. It’s meant to come down to mid-thigh, pleated and flared in a way that makes it seem even shorter. The next item is a white blouse, made of soft, white jersey that should feel gentle on Matt’s skin, shoulderless except for a thin strap.

And then finally, Matt gets to the underwear. For the skirt and blouse, Matt’s eyes had been wide, hands skimming the different fabrics reverently, painting himself a picture of what Foggy’s bought him. But this,  _ this  _ is where Matt licks his lips, where his breath goes ragged and his face flushes a dull red. He pulls out a matching bra and panties, both red silk with lace trim, skimpy strips of fabric that should contrast beautifully against Matt’s pale skin. But there are a dozen matching sets in a variety of colors, red, green, black, even pink, and Matt spends what feels like an eternity worrying each pair between his fingertips.

“You sure these are gonna fit me?” Matt finally chokes out, voice cracking over the words. Foggy grins, taking a seat on the bed next to the clothes Matt has laid out with meticulous care.

“Try them on, and we’ll see, baby,” Foggy purrs out.

And Matt does, but not before he strips down, just the way Foggy taught him. Shrugging off his suit jacket so he can hang it in the closet with care. Folding his white button down with deft hands, shimmying out of his slacks so he can do the same with them. Matt’s undershirt comes off with a sensual roll of his torso, balled up and tossed in the hamper along with his socks. Until Matt’s bending over to slide off his boxers, cock already half-hard in anticipation and rapidly filling.

“Start with the bottoms,” Foggy says, eyes trained on Matt as he shucks off his own clothes with much less care.

The panties look even smaller pressed against Matt’s body, absurdly tiny as he starts to step into them. The slide up Matt’s legs is obscene, the skimpy red fabric catching on the dark hair of Matt’s meaty thighs, until the waistband settles onto his slim hips. Matt spends a few moments awkwardly rearranging himself, fighting to keep his balls from slipping out. His cock is a heavy bulge, curved and pressed so tightly against the silk that Foggy can easily make out the head.

Foggy has to swallow, throat dry, as he takes in Matt. The cold air in the loft has hardened Matt’s nipples, perky and pink against the swirl of thick black hair on his chest. The hair on Matt’s belly is finer, treasure trail leading down to where Matt’s hardening cock has pulled the waistband of the panties away, letting the thick hair at the base of Matt’s cock spill out over the top. The aroused flush on Matt’s face has traveled down his neck and chest, and-

_ Fuck _ , Foggy’s already jerking off, cock slick with precome. There’s a damp spot where Matt’s started to leak against the panties, and his bulge twitches as the room is filled with heavy breathing and the sounds of Foggy touching himself.

“The skirt next, Matty,” Foggy says, hoarse. “Feels wrong to cover up those little panties, but I wanna make sure the skirt fits.” 

Matt pulls up the skirt awkwardly, hissing at what Foggy imagines is his erection sliding against silk. Meant for someone with wider hips, Foggy’s a little surprised that the skirt settles well enough.

“Look at you, baby” Foggy sounds breathless, even to himself, embarrassingly close at the sight of Matt in a short skirt. “Touch yourself for me, baby. Work a hand under that skirt and play with your cock. Over the panties.”

Matt goes a bright red as his hand dips under the waistband of the skirt to cup himself. It’s lewd, the way Matt’s muscled forearm tightens when he squeezes, the little moans he gives as his hips rock forward, grinding against his palm. 

“How does it feel, Matty? I bet you’re so damn wet. Gonna ruin your panties for me? Gonna squirt all over yourself before we’ve even gotten started?”

“F-Foggy, I need- please-”

Matt’s movements get shakier, hips pressing harder against himself. Foggy’s just as close, jacking off faster than he should if he wants to make it more than a few minutes.

“What do you need, Matty? Tell me what you want.”

“ _ Fuck _ . Fuck me.  _ Please. _ ”

Foggy moves behind Matt, pushing down at the shoulder-blades, until he’s fully bent over the bed, face pressed against the sheets. Pleased, Foggy takes a centering breath before he embarrasses himself by coming too quickly. He takes a moment to run his fingernails against the dark hair of Matt’s legs, scratching against Matt’s inner thighs.

Foggy remembers how meticulously Matt used to shave. He can’t lie, there would be an appeal to that. Warm, slick, naked skin sitting pretty in women’s clothes. The sense of vulnerability, Matt having the responsibility of keeping himself groomed. But Foggy prefers the thick hair, loves how hairy Matt can get, how thick and wild it grows over his chest, across his arms and legs, just above his cock. And contrasted against those panties, already ill-fitting on Matt’s burly frame?

Fantastic. 

The hem of Matt’s skirt tickles as Foggy’s fingers dance up Matt’s thighs, until he’s ghosting a fingertip against the bulge of Matt’s balls. The squeak Matt lets out is made all the sweeter by the way Matt’s still trying to jerk off over the panties, his hips pushing back against Foggy as his legs splay as wide as the panties will allow.

“You’re a needy little slut tonight, aren’t you?” Foggy teases, flipping up the back of Matt’s skirt. A new angle, Foggy licks his lips when he sees that the bottom of Matt’s ass is bare, and he can’t help reaching out to squeeze. “ Want me to finger this pussy open?”

With a little difficulty, Foggy slides his middle finger through one of the legs of Matt’s underwear, until he can tease at Matt’s tight hole, tickled by the coarse hair.

“Foggy,” Matt’s voice is begging, high. “Please. Please stop teasing and  _ fuck me _ .”

Foggy huffs out a laugh as he slides the back of panties down the curve of Matt’s ass, taking great care to leave Matt’s cock trapped as he uncovers that sweet hole. 

“I gotta give myself a minute to enjoy this, Matty,” Foggy says, running his knuckles across the dark hair of Matt’s crack. “My big, stud, superhero boyfriend, bent over my bed in a tiny skirt and tinier panties. Want me to make you my little bitch? Want to get split open on my cock, until you’re a drooling fucked out mess?”

Matt whines, hips pushing back against the dry press of Foggy’s hand. “Y-yeah, Foggy. Please. Please. I want-”

“Aww, my baby boy’s all tongue-tied,” Foggy coos, loving the way Matt trembles at the tone. He pulls away for just a second, fumbling for the lube in their nightstand so he can pour a dollop onto his palm. “Let me help you. ‘ _ Please Foggy, stretch me open with your big cock. Fuck my pussy until I’m a wet, sloppy mess. Slap my cock until I’m crying, and creaming my panties like a naughty little painslut. _ ”

“ _ Yes _ . All of that. More than that. Anything.  _ Please. _ ”

Foggy works a lubed finger into Matt slowly, Matt warm around him and clenching hard. The muscles in Matt’s back coil as Foggy’s finger twists, building speed until he feels comfortable sliding in another finger.

“The more you clench, the longer this is gonna take,” Foggy soothes, other hand sliding reassuringly against Matt’s thigh. He purposely avoids pressing against Matt’s prostate as he slides in a third finger, although tempted to fingerfuck Matt until he’s shuddering and coming apart. As it is, Matt is shivering, eyes scrunched shut, mouth wet and cherry red, as he lets out these breathy little gasps and-

Foggy needs to be inside of him  _ right now _ .

Foggy accidentally squirts out more lube than he intends, slicking himself up and wiping the excess against his belly as he stares in awe at Matt’s puffy, wet hole. Stroking himself, Foggy lines up the head of his cock and slides in an inch, to feel Matt give way around him, and to hear the sharp inhale he knew Matt would give.

Foggy’s thrusts are slow to start, as much about staving off his orgasm as it is about letting Matt get used to the tight squeeze. They both groan each time Foggy’s fully sheathed, Matt melting into the sheets as Foggy works out a rhythm.

“Harder,” Matt pleads, which puts a smug grin on Foggy’s face. Grip tight on Matt’s hips, Foggy obliges, slamming in with abandon,  _ squish, squish, squish _ of lube wet in his ears. He doesn’t have much technique tonight, having spent too long riding the edge of his orgasm, but he can make up for it with enthusiasm, and by whispering filth into Matt’s ear. And for his part, Matt seems to love it, whining and pressing back with as much desperation. 

“Matty, how is your ass always this tight? I’m not gonna last long like this. Gonna coat you in my come, until you’re reeking with it. Until all you can smell is how much you belong to me.”

Matt’s squeezing around him, sobbing out these sweet little mewls. Foggy can feel the tightness growing in his thighs, pleasure mounting as his cock is surrounded by wet heat. Every few thrusts, his balls catch against the silky fabric bunched around Matt’s thighs, a surprising, delicious jolt. But it’s the way Matt’s skirt is bouncing with each thrust, flapping uselessly against Foggy’s stomach, that finally pushes him over the edge.

“ _ Fuck, baby _ ,” Foggy groans out loudly, hips jerking as he comes, filling Matt as he shoots hot and sticky into his hole. He clumsily moves a hand down to where Matt is still groping at himself, scrambling for purchase around Matt’s wet, twitching bulge, still inside his now-ruined panties. “Come for me Matty. Let me feel you come apart around me.”

Matt’s unabashedly loud in his orgasm, moaning out Foggy’s name with such worship, muscled frame shuddering as pulse after pulse of come seeps through the silk. Eventually, Matt goes boneless, face soft and looking dazed, well-fucked.

“Matty, you’re so damn gorgeous,” Foggy breathes, awed. He pulls out with a groan, friction just this side of painful against his sensitive cock. But eager to flip Matt onto his back so he can get a better look at his boy. 

Matt turns with little prompting, head tilted to the side, eyes still closed in aftershocks. His hair is wild, damp with sweat and smooshed down against his forehead. Hands still shaky, Foggy pulls down on the waistband of the skirt, so he can examine the damage to Matt’s panties. 

The panties are  _ soaked _ through, sticky and dark, molded damply around Matt’s softening cock. Before he can help himself, Foggy’s licking at the panties, taste of come thick and bitter on his tongue. Matt’s hisses, still-sensitive cock overstimulated by the contact, but he doesn’t pull away. Just lets Foggy lap at him until Foggy’s face is covered in come from the cheeks down, a filthy, delighted mess.

Eventually, Foggy strips the panties off Matt, laughing happily when he sees that Matt’s pubic hair is just as messy, soaked and matted with come. Foggy’s fingers dip in, rubbing the sticky fluid into the dark curls around Matt’s cock.

Matt huffs out a laugh as Foggy licks the come off his fingers. “And you call me filthy.”

“I’m not the one who came in their underwear like a high schooler,” Foggy snipes back, just to watch the color rise in Matt’s cheeks again. Bending down, Foggy kisses Matt, relishing how soft Matt’s mouth feels under his lips, how easily his smiling mouth opens so Foggy can lick inside.

“Love you, Matty,” Foggy whispers when they separate, face pressed into the hollow of Matt’s neck.

“You too, buddy,” Matt responds, voice raw with emotion.


End file.
